


Persistence

by frecklesarechocolate



Series: Season Nine Coda Ficlets [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s09e10 Road Trip, M/M, Pining Castiel, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate





	Persistence

Cas texts Dean. He doesn’t expect a response, but he feels the need to reach out. He doesn’t exactly hide it from Sam, but he doesn’t come right out and say, “Hey, I’m texting Dean, want me to say anything for you?”

Sam will contact Dean when he’s ready.

Dean doesn’t text back.

Cas feels like he shouldn’t be hurt by it, but, despite the fact that he’s all “angeled” up again, he gets a low pain in his heart when he picks up his phone and there are no new messages

But he texts anyway. Never more than a line or so. Usually just something random, not very important.

— **had peanut butter for the first time since I got my Grace back. Didn’t love it. Sam finished my sandwich.** —

— **found a curious notch in one of the bedposts in a room in the back. Several of them, actually. I told Sam, but he just started laughing.** —

Navigating the human world as an angel is supposed to be easier, Cas thinks. But this time, it’s too overwhelming. Too much stimuli assaulting his senses.

Sam sweats excessively, which Cas had noticed only abstractly in the past. Now, it’s as if the droplets of sweat on Sam’s neck and face have additional gravitas. They rasp against hours old beard growth as they trail down Sam’s cheeks. Cas hears the musical drop as the liquid falls to the floor, but it’s a cacophony.

Cas seeks out solitude in the bunker, away from the ever-present hum of machinery, away from the racket that is his friend, Sam Winchester.

Cas retreats to the only space he knows Sam will not follow.

Sitting cross-legged on Dean’s bed, he sighs as the mattress beneath conforms to his rear and upper thighs. It’s a luxury that Cas would never have considered for himself, but he understands the appeal.

His phone is silent and blank in his grasp.

He could just close his eyes and fly to Dean with a mere thought. He could grip Dean tight (again) and yank him back. Home.

He doesn’t go.

Instead, he meditates. Lying on his back, on Dean’s bed, surrounded by the smell of Dean. Gunmetal, leather, something spicy. It permeates the room. Rises from the lone pillow when Cas rests his head on it.

— **why do you only have one pillow? The motels you slept in always had two per bed.** —

It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

And yet, Cas fixates on this.

When he worked at the Gas ‘n’ Sip, he’d watch tv in idle moments. Dr. Sexy came on every weekday at 2, and there were an awful lot of beds in that show.

Even the hospital beds had two pillows. (This, too, puzzles Cas. He doesn’t remember having two pillows when he was in the hospital.)

He texts these observations to Dean.

Nothing.

He knows Dean is receiving the messages. They have the same kind of phone, and each message has a tiny “Read” after it.

Cas persists.


End file.
